Building Ghosts
by DevvieBunny
Summary: A professor at Starfleet Academy has an unusual hobby.


**Building Ghosts**

_Devorah Quinn_

Cassandra, the professor's wife, answered the bell in the same manner as she did every time Jessie came to their house. One eye appeared through the crack between the door and the frame and before it opened entirely. She greeted him with the same warm smile and ushered him inside, out of the failing light of late evening.

After she had closed the door and locked it, the young woman held up a finger as she made her way across the pristine living room to the door on the opposite side.

"I'll get my husband. He's out back in the garden."

Jessie thought about saying something but did not, giving her a nod that she did not see as he searched for a place to sit.

His usual spot was on the couch that ran the space between the wall and the marble coffee table at the center. It was in line with the rug and the curtained windows across from it, but opposite the large out-of-place recliner in the corner.

The chair was the only colored furnishing in the entire area, covered with a coarse muted brown fabric, complete with years of stains over its every surface. It was of the kind that most men of the professor's age claimed as their sole property, and he had marked his territory accordingly.

The rest of the room was a stark white, with little bits of color scattered about in the crevices of the furniture and the floor. Everything was so perfectly in place that one might confuse it for a dollhouse.

All the trappings of a home were in sight, but as with most things that Cassandra came in contact with, it was just a little too perfect. Nothing looked to have ever been used, the plates and silverware in impeccable order, the rugs of just the right size and color. Even the paintings that adorned the walls seemed to have been crafted specifically for this room and nothing else.

"Jessie Linde, exactly on time like always!"

The professor's voice was thunderous, as he left no syllable un-enunciated. He pointed a thick, wrinkled hand at the young man in their living room as he moved to the recliner. Cassandra followed behind, stopping near the edge of the couch, her young blue eyes dancing back and forth between the two.

"What I've always liked about you, my boy, always punctual. Even for a pariah like me."

"Thank you sir, though I'd hardly call you a pariah."

"Bah! The Academy doesn't like me and I don't like them. It's no secret. But it's none of their damn business, am I right?"  
Jessie couldn't help but smile at the professor's gusto. The man hid little, and often was faulted for his bluntness.

"I suppose so, sir. Still, they must keep you around for something."

"I'm the best-published doctor of holographic engineering they've got. Besides, I've got tenure, so short of lighting a Vulcan dignitary on fire, they'll leave me well enough alone."

"Probably shouldn't do that, sir. Suppose you could just replace them with a hologram, though."

The professor guffawed and dropped himself into the recliner. It gave way a bit, showing its age, but stayed in one piece. He was not a large man, but he was not tiny under any definition. That the chair stayed together under his weight was a miracle of modern engineering.

"They wouldn't approve of that and you know it. Even if it is my specialty."

"Building ghosts?"

The old man adjusted his brown suit, pulling it around him like a reluctant blanket as he spoke. The recliner squeaked in protest.

"You're not having second thoughts now are you? Four years you've been at the Academy and just now decided that I'm wrong?"

"No, sir. Just stating it how some see it."

"But you disagree?"

"I think you're doing the right thing, bringing people's loved ones back to them. But, I can understand why others might have reservations about the whole thing."

Satisifed that his suit was now in a more pleasing condition, the professor nodded thoughtfully to Jessie and turned to Cassandra.

"My dear, would you be so kind as to bring us some tea?"

The woman smiled and moved back out through door where she had just come from. A few seconds later, the sounds of rustling could be heard from the kitchen. The old man's eyes moved reluctantly back to the man sitting on the couch.

"It's always good to keep the other side in mind, but I'm just giving people what they want. If you saw the look on someone's face when I turned on a hologram of their long lost love, or grandmother..."

His words fell into a mumble, losing a few before his thoughts and mouth reconciled their differences.

"...why they're the happiest people in the world. Some of them just want to say goodbye. You can't in good conscience deny them that."

"Some people don't just say goodbye though, sir. Some keep them around for a long time."

The professor shrugged and relaxed back in his chair.

"Yeah, well, if they want to do that, then more power to them. Don't have a right to deny people the right to be happy, do you?"

"You don't. You can't tell people how to be happy."

"Damn right you can't. I like putting the things together and they like having them around. It's a good trade."

Cassandra returned with a tea tray in her hands. She placed it on the table between the two, filling each cup and dropping two sugars into Jessie's.

On the many occasions he had frequented their house, this was only the second time he had stayed for tea. The last time was over three years ago when Cassandra had first started staying with the professor. She had the memory of a computer and the looks of a delicate flower. It was no wonder that he was so fond of her.

When she had distributed the tea, Cassandra turned and made her way back out the door.

"Speaking of a trade-" Jessie started.

"You want to know how far along I am with that one you gave me last week."

"Yes. I am shipping out tomorrow, and I was hoping that I could deliver it before I left."

"I almost forgot. You're Ensign Linde now, aren't you? Surprised you aren't walking everywhere in that uniform. Usually after cadets get that first pip, you can't pry it off of them for months."

Jessie chuckled and took a sip.

"Yes. It's a lot of work for one piece of metal. We're usually very proud of it."

"As you should be. There's a low acceptance and high dropout rates for a reason. I remember your brother being just as proud of his."

"Yes, well, not a lot of good that it did him."

"Forgive an old fool his discourtesy. I did not mean to bring up painful memories. His time in the service was short, but admirable."

The nutation of Jessie's head was the only response he could muster, though he did it without conscious thought. He did not want the old man to feel bad, since he had no reason to do so. The professor did everything in his power to ease the pain in first few weeks after the accident and he was grateful. Despite this, it still hurt to speak of his brother in public.

Holding the teacup to his lips to check the temperature, the professor let his folly lie for a moment. He took a hefty drink and waved his other hand dismissively.

"But back to the question that you asked before I made an ass of myself. I have your Captain-friend's hologram done."

"She not a friend."

"I'm sorry?"

"She's not a friend. She had heard about you and was asking around about getting this hologram done. I offered to bring it to your attention. We share a similar loss."

The old man nodded and set his cup back down on the saucer.

"I'm glad you did, though. This was an interesting case. I've never built a personality matrix for a hologram where the subject spent so much time in a hospital."

"I take it that the personnel records were sufficient, then."

"As much as they usually are. It's always a lot of guesswork."

"So it's not an exact copy?"

The professor had finished the remaining tea with a quick gulp and placed his cup and saucer on the tray with the teapot. He made a labored ascent and walked to the small table beside the silverware display.

"Exact? Oh heavens no. It's as much art as it is science. Besides, you don't want to make it exact even if you could."

Jessie finished his tea as well and placed the cup next to the professor's. Cassandra appeared on cue and picked up them up, returning once again through the door in the back. There was not a word from her, nor did she let the dishes make a sound as they traveled. She was a soft white angel moving in the background.

A perplexed look grew across Jessie's face as he thought about the professor's retort.

"Not exact, sir? I thought that was the whole purpose of your project."

"The purpose of the project is to relieve the pain of the grieving. You don't do that by giving them what they lost-"

The professor pulled a datapad out of the drawer and checked it. Finding what he was looking for, he made his way slowly back to his guest, talking as he did so.

"-since that isn't what they want. The memories that people have of each other, especially after that person have died are, well, rose-colored."

"You make a better version of the person?"

"I wouldn't say better, but I definitely take off some of the edges. Take this one for example. She's a fighter, a warrior through and through. Probably a little bit on the stubborn side. But her sister won't remember her like that."

He handed the pad to Jessie before gesturing towards the door. It was getting late for a man of the professor's age, the darkness outside reminding him when he must retire.

"I took that down a notch, and emphasized all the other good things just a touch. She's still her, just a little refined. People tend to forget bad things about each other given time. Probably one of our best human qualities."

Jessie stood, pad tapping against the top of his free hand as he made his way to the exit. Cassandara appeared out of nowhere to open the door for him, smiling in her usual way as she did.

"Have a good evening, Jessie, and congratulations on your graduation."

"Thank you, Cassandra."

The elderly gentleman gave a wave to him as the door closed.

"Make sure to come by and visit me before you take off."

"I will do that, sir."

When the door had closed, the professor made his way towards his room, stopping at the foot of the stairs to prepare for his climb. Cassandra approached him there and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Goodnight, hun."

He gave her a kiss back and started the trek up to the second floor.

"Goodnight, dear."

He stopped at a small panel in the wall about halfway up the flight, pressed a few buttons and continued climbing. A few seconds later, Cassandra faded away.


End file.
